


a glowing sensation (taking place)

by rqtheory



Series: hold it, hold it, hold it steady [3]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: I'm hesitant to tag this ear porn but that's what it is, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:30:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rqtheory/pseuds/rqtheory
Summary: They go back to Brad's place with the seltzers. They chat, among other things.





	a glowing sensation (taking place)

**Author's Note:**

> This follows directly on from _corridor diplomacy_ , though it mostly makes sense without it. And CD follows on from _trick now or true_ , so continuity-wise, if you've got time, read those. 
> 
> Or just enjoy your smut context-free. I'm not gonna judge.

“Just here, on the left,” Brad says, pointing at one of the nondescript doors in a corridor of nondescript doors. Taako leans against the wall as he unlocks it and trails him inside, skimming his knuckles along Brad’s arm just for the pointed, sudden look it gets him as he brushes past. The apartment is much smaller than the one he shares with Magnus and Merle, but the layout is similar enough that he knows immediately where to head to the kitchen, cracking open the fridge.

Which is, of course, stocked with a wide array of items that can only be described as nutritionally balanced. He snorts. “Come on, my man. Nothing fun? Where’s your dessert?”

“Oh, I’ve got a few ideas,” Brad calls from the living room, and Taako internally curses. Round one, Brad Bradson.

He wanders back out into the living room to see Brad at a fairly impressive drinks cabinet with what looks like a built-in beer tap, bar fridge, and a wide array of glassware, all in matching sets of six. “Are you serious, Bradson?” he demands, toeing off his boots in the hallway. "You running a secret speakeasy?"

Brad laughs. “You know I home-brew. Gotta have a decent setup here, the air pressure and the temperature’s all messed up on the moon otherwise.”

“You’re a nerd,” Taako tells him, and he shrugs.

“Not too much different to cooking I’d wager. What’s your poison?”

It startles him, for a second, and he can feel it cracking through the buoyant but fragile mood he’s in, sudden blackness ready to descend. He nearly turns to leave, but stupidly enough Brad has both seltzers there on the sideboard and he has the insane thought that he can’t fucking walk out, not without winning his gods-be-damned property back, and makes his way purposefully over to the cabinet, nudging Brad out of the way.

“I don’t trust you not to make me some perfectly measured, one-standard-drink normie bullshit,” he says, letting some of the tension bleed out into being... well, being a dick. “Lemme at it.”

Brad backs out of the way, hands up, a smile on his face. “Be my guest.”

He pokes around in Brad’s liquor shelf, muttering, making unflattering noises at most of what he finds there and finally dumping a ton of ice into a couple of highballs, adding vodka and transmuted peach schnapps and finally, finally, some fizzy water. Brad has sliced up lime wedges in an airtight box in the fridge, because of course he does, but at least there's a garnish.

He shoves a glass in Brad’s direction. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Brad says, inclining the glass before taking a long sip. A small crease appears between his eyebrows. "This is quite strong."

"Oh, yeah, homie, I made yours with an extra shot," Taako tells him, and smirks. "Less seltzer."

"Are you trying to take advantage of me?" Brad says, sounding amused. "I should be flattered, I suppose."

Taako snorts. "You're like twice my size. Just evening the playing field." He sips his drink. “And there’s two shots in mine already.”

Brad smirks at him. “Well, well, who would’ve picked the reclaimers for a group of lushes?”

“Only on my scheduled leave days,” Taako tells him, smirking right back. “Taako’s a dedicated, focused employee.” He presses a finger into Brad’s chest, starts walking him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he sits down on it with a thump, ice clinking in his glass.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Brad tells him. “I’ll make a note on your personnel report.” Taako climbs onto his lap, straddling his hips. “Hmm, along with ‘direct nonverbal communication style’,” as he slides his free hand along Taako’s hip.

“Pretty handsy yourself,” Taako retorts, and sits back to take a drink and eye Brad up over the rim, gaze wandering slowly over his chest. The singlet fits him... well.

“I’m just trying to make sure you don’t fall,” Brad tells him, even as his finger trails lightly around Taako’s waist. “After hours incident reports are a hellish waste of time.”

Taako takes a swig of his drink. “You’re just doing that to annoy me, aren’t you?”

“Doing what?”

Taako snorts. “You know. The corporate-speak nerd bullshit. You’re not as boring as you make out. I bet you’ve broken like eight rules already tonight.”

Brad makes a noncommittal noise. “Perhaps several infractions related to the same rule.”

“Oooh, an infractor.” Taako grins at him. “Any witnesses?”

“One, but I don’t know if he’ll give a particularly convincing statement.” His hand is stroking carefully along Taako’s thigh and hip, now. “It’s possible he has a conflict of interest.”

"Oh yeah?"

Brad hums. "Likely to be guilty of similar infractions, I'd say. As well as trying to break into a vending machine."

"Hey," Taako says, indignant again. "We talked about this, that's bullshit."

“I could be persuaded not to report anything,” he says, and throws back the rest of the drink, somehow managing not to spill ice all over his face. He presses his hand into the small of Taako’s back and leans forward, pushing the now-empty glass onto the coffee table as their chests press ever-so-briefly together, before leaning back again. “Not bad.”

“Want another one?” Taako asks. He’s almost finished his own, and the alcohol is starting to hit, coursing pleasantly through his limbs and making him warm and heavy. 

“I sort of had something else in mind,” Brad demurs, tilting his head back just a little. “May I?” And he gestures at Taako’s ears.

All of a sudden he's aware of them as they flatten, selfconciously, against his head. "What? Why?" He regards Brad suspiciously. "You got a Thing, my man?"

Brad's expression is entirely softer than Taako is comfortable with. "No, but it's not my first rodeo either. That's why I'm asking, I know not everyone likes it."

It hangs there for a second, Taako trying to parse exactly what that means, until he gives up with a sigh, leaning back and around to deposit his glass on the table. "Yeah okay. Go for it. Just - you know."

"Sure." He cups Taako's cheek for a second and it's all he can do not to scowl, not really jiving with how much affection the gesture usually indicates, before a finger traces gently, barely touching, along his earlobe and up. Even such little contact is too much at first and his ear flicks back, overloaded, and he can feel himself trembling with the effort of not pushing himself away. Brad does it again, firmer this time, and all at once it clicks into place as his nerves acclimatise, fizzing wildly, the sensation thrumming through him like a wire vibrating.His eyes slide shut and his lips part and he's breathing, hard, as blood rises to his cheeks while Brad takes the edge of his ear between thumb and forefinger and carefully but purposefully traces a path from tip to lobe and back, dragging sparks in his wake. Taako holds the rest of himself still with a great degree of effort but the ear not currently subject to these attentions is flicking wildly until Brad’s free hand swings up to mirror his touch on the other side; the sudden contact is too much, and he yelps and jerks backward, stomach swooping as his momentum nearly carries him backwards onto the floor, Brad's split-second reaction to grab his waist the only thing stopping it.

He bursts into giggles, realising dimly somewhere that the vodka's probably hit him a bit more intensely than he expected. "Woah."

"Are you ok?" Brad says, sounding legitimately concerned for a moment. Taako waves a hand.

"Yeah, yeah, golden, just a bit much all of a sudden, how about you go slow huh?"

"Of course," Brad says softly, and cups Taako's face with both hands this time before repeating the same movement as before in stereo, softly tracing up from the lobes. "Is that ok?"

"Mmmuh," Taako says, eyes closing again. "Yeah."

Brad leans closer to him; Taako can feel him breathing softly close to his neck and can't help moaning quietly as it heightens the electric sensation humming through him.

"What's it like?" Brad says, sounding fascinated. Taako cracks an eyelid to glare at him.

"Seriously?"

Brad scrapes his nails down the delicate skin behind Taako's ears; they flutter wildly and his mouth falls open on a high-pitched, throaty sound. "Seriously."

"Ugh. They're. R-really sensitive," he manages, as Brad continues stroking lightly and his ears get with the program, staying where they are.

"Hmmm?"

"Y-yeah. It's, um. Oh, fuuuck," he says, losing his train of thought as Brad rolls the tips of both ears between forefinger and thumb. 

Brad pulls back slightly, and breathes, “Oh, look at you,” and Taako would go even redder if he wasn’t already furiously blushing. “That’s so good you can’t stand it, isn’t it?”

“Sh-shut up,” Taako hisses at him. “It’s- I can’t help it-”

Brad kisses him, and keeps stroking his thumb along the shell of Taako’s ear, and he’s aware he’s making breathy, mewling little noises into Brad’s mouth, and part of him wants to stop it but his hands are curled uselessly against Brad’s chest and he can’t bring himself to exert any pressure or pull away.

Finally, finally, Brad breaks the kiss and pulls back, hands sliding down Taako’s neck to knead gently at his shoulders. “Gods, you look. Gorgeous.”

“Oh, shut up,” Taako snaps at him, without heat. “The skin’s thin. They’re sensitive. I don’t fucking know, don’t be weird about it.”

Brad gives him a mildly hurt look, somewhat undermined by how flushed his cheeks are and how swollen his bottom lip is. “Well, how about I let you run the show for a bit.” And he spreads his arms out along the back of the couch, and cocks an eyebrow. Taako lets his gaze wander slowly from fingertip to fingertip, taking in thick-fingered hands, biceps and pectorals, and the twin dips of his collarbones.

"Okay then," he agrees, and leans in for a kiss, pulse racing as he slides his hands up the back of Brad's neck into his hair to tilt his head forward as he bites playfully at Brad's bottom lip. A huffed laugh, and Brad trails a series of open-mouthed kisses along his cheek; nudging Taako's head to the side with his chin as he somehow zeroes in on the spot where neck meets jaw that Taako is most sensitive, laving it with attention as Taako's hands clench compulsively in Brad's hair. He scrapes stubble against the spot, and Taako lets his hips rut forward until he's slotting into place in Brad's lap, cock sliding against Brad’s abdomen where it’s trapped in his underwear. "B-Brad..."

Brad hums an acknowledgement against his skin, against the spot, and he whines pitifully and writhes against the feeling of consistent, vibrating pressure against him, unable to do much in reply. Brad runs out of breath for a second and Taako seizes the opportunity to lean back slightly and tug at the hem of his singlet. "Get rid of this."

"Happily.' Brad says, and removes it in a single, smooth movement, dropping it over the back of the couch. Taako takes a moment to drink in the sight in front of him - an impressively broad chest with a smattering of freckles and a gold ring in one dark nipple.

“Huh,” he says, and pulls his tunic over his head, aware that he’s definitely the more naked one now. He twists around to drop the tunic on the floor and grabs an icecube out of one of the abandoned glasses as Brad says “Cute,” and flicks the elastic of Taako’s bright mesh underwear.

Inappropriately gleeful, he touches the ice to Brad’s chest and draws a smiley face with it, which gets him a startled “ _Taako!_ Really?” He’s trying to look unimpressed even as the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. Round two, Taako.

Taako shrugs and crunches the ice in his teeth. “It was funny.” He goes back to Brad’s chest in earnest, then, trailing open-mouthed kisses from his neck down to the piercing, a hand flat on Brad’s abdomen just to feel him twitching. He flicks the ring with his other hand and is granted a small moan, before he fixes his mouth around it and tugs. _That_ works - Brad swears in earnest and Taako feels rather than sees his head fall back. Another small tug and Brad’s hands fly up off the couch back and into Taako’s hair, tugging him up so Brad can kiss him, hard. He leans into it, but nudges Brad’s knees apart and slides one of his in between so he’s straddling one thigh now, and pushes his knee carefully up against Brad’s dick and grinds against his thigh. Both of them moan, tongues sliding together, and Taako would probably be embarrassed that he’s rutting firmly against Brad’s thigh if anything could occur to him through the heady fog in his brain, or if he could hear himself think over the increasingly desperate noises spilling out of him as pleasure steadily builds in his gut.

One of Brad’s hands skates over his shoulder-blades and down his back to grip his hip and pull down on him, firmly. The hand still in his hair shifts slightly and a thumb strokes up the outside of his ear again; Taako realises he’s matching the pace of his hips to the thumb on his ear but can’t bring himself to care, electricity sparking in his head and his dick and making him lose his rhythm, finally wailinginto Brad’s mouth as his hips stutter unevenly as he comes. He drops his forehead to Brad’s shoulder, breathing hard.

“I’ll definitely keep that up my sleeve,” Brad murmurs, the timbre of his voice burning down Taako’s spine.

“You don’t have any sleeves,” Taako mumbles, and winces internally, _lame_ , before raising his head. “Your turn.”

“Well, I’m- only if you’re-”

Taako rolls his eyes, clambers over to kneel on the couch next to Brad. “Pants.” He tugs at the hem. “I like the monogram.”

“Really?”

A snort, as derisive as he can make it while post-orgasmic, which isn't a lot. “No, you’re a dork.” He leans over as subtly as possible to lever another icecube out of his abandoned glass, closing his hand around it tightly.

Brad can’t quite manage to stifle the laugh as he shimmies the PJs over his hips. “Probably.”

“Who knew the head of HR went commando,” Taako comments, and then whistles through his teeth. “Wow. That’s... intimidating.”

Brad laughs again. “You don’t - just take it easy, okay?”

“Carpe fucking diem,” Taako counters, and throws the icecube vaguely in the direction of the sideboard before wrapping his mouth around the head of Brad’s cock and his now-cold hand around the base.

Brad swears viciously and a hand flies to Taako’s shoulder, pulling him off. “Rude,” he says, eyes a little wild. Taako grins at him, all teeth.

“It’s all about the contrast,” he says piously, and swallows Brad down as far as he can, which honestly isn’t that far, comparatively, but he brings both hands to bear and moans and Brad doesn’t seem to mind, if the way he jolts and echoes the moan is any indication.

It doesn’t really take long from there; it’s sloppier than he’d usually go on a first - whatever, but it’s hard not to with his mouth stretched this wide and anyway Brad doesn’t seem to mind if the increasingly choked noises he’s making are any indication. He steadily increases the pace, but it’s Brad curling a hand through Taako’s hair and touching his ear _again,_ which makes Taako whine around the cock in his mouth, which makes Brad swear and say, uneven, “Taako, I’m-”

He certainly is, Taako thinks, swallowing as much as he can before pulling off, sliding his hand up through the mess and dragging the back of his other hand over his face. “Huh. I’d forgotten. About-” he gestures.

Brad laughs softly, breathing hard. “Sorry, should’ve warned you.”

“It’s fine,” Taako says, surprised as he does to find that he means it. “I didn’t mind.” He pauses, then pushes through the squirming embarrassment to say “I liked it.”

“Did you,” Brad murmurs, reaching a hand over to slide a thumb along Taako’s jaw. “That’s good to know.”

They’re both silent for a moment, staring at eachother, and awkwardness suddenly bubbles up between then and Brad’s hand drops away. Taako looks to the side, wondering how to bolt without looking like he’s bolting, and his eyes alight on the half-empty seltzer on the sideboard.

He’s not going home with half a bottle. That’d be stupid. “How do you feel about another drink?”

“Depends how you feel about staying over,” Brad counters, not quite able to hide his relief that the awkwardness has dissipated. “Can’t let you wander the halls after curfew, especially under the influence.”

“Hmmm,” Taako says slowly, and makes a show of thinking it over. “What’d you say before? I could be persuaded.”

Brad grins at him, a finger tracing slow circles on Taako’s thigh. “Oh, I can be very persuasive.”

“Good. Persuade away.”

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *takes a break from writing soon-to-be-jossed MurderQuest to write the scene after _corridor diplomacy_ *  
> Also me, 2.8K words later: Well, that happened.
> 
> Title's from the Architecture in Helsinki song from TNOT because I'm Very Bad at titles.


End file.
